


For the Asking

by barelyaconcept, CatOnThePianoStrings (orphan_account)



Series: Squeezed the Universe Into a Ball [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barelyaconcept/pseuds/barelyaconcept, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CatOnThePianoStrings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rocket needs some time with Peter, but this time, he's finally having to ask for it.<br/>[jumps into the middle of a series, vaguely sub-y Rocket, sort-of praise kink, but more like personal validation]</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Asking

**Author's Note:**

> Note on the context: this series will be posted in the order written, not the story's timeline order. There's some sort-of D/S in here, with some validation thrown in because Rocket gives me feels. I'm not tagging it as a praise kink because, the way I see it, it's not a kink, but I guess that's semantics. Also, since this series will be entirely in little pieces, it will be told in no particular order and with no posting schedule in mind. This is what I'll be writing in between HOaF and Real Life Writing.  
> On today's agenda: snuggles! And, depending on your perspective, some sliiiightly irresponsible dom-ing, but that's only Peter's guilt talking. Rocket's okay, promise!  
> Oh, and wonderflonium belongs to Joss Whedon and the Mutant Enemy peeps and all that jazz.  
> Also, I know nothing about... anything, so any constructive criticism is appreciated, but any feedback or whatever is still totally amazing!

 

> “Do I dare  
>  Disturb the universe?  
>  In a minute there is time  
>  For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.”  
>              -T. S. Eliot; _The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_

“Hey, Pete. You busy?” Peter looks up to see Rocket leaning through the airlock to the commons. With most of his body tucked safely behind the frame, only his face peeks around the edge. Peter glances down at the mostly-reassembled blaster in his hands. He looks back up at Rocket with a broad grin, clicking the muzzle and empty lazermag back in place by feel.

“For you, Rocket? I’m never busy.” He thuds the blaster back onto the table and follows Rocket down the hall to their bunk.

Peter perches himself on the edge of the bed and watches Rocket pace around the small space of their bunk. Rocket’s really worked himself into a lather; Peter needs to step in before he’s just a ball of tension and second-guesses.

“Rocket.” Peter’s tone is kind but uncompromising. Rocket’s head jerks around and he stops mid-step. He’s left staring at Peter like he’d forgotten he was there, twitchy and wide-eyed.

“C’mere.” Peter holds an arm out toward him, waiting. It’s been a while since Rocket’s needed something this bad, but they’ve been a little busy dodging Ravagers and delivering a crate of wonderflonium to a client. Peter hadn’t thought that the last week had been too stressful for Rocket, but he may have been wrong.

He should have made time for the two of them to just be before this. Rocket’s never asked -- never had to ask, really, and that thought makes Peter hurt for having failed him this time -- for anything like this, and that must be what this is. Peter’s sure _all_ the tension in Rocket’s spine isn’t nerves, but once he makes the connection, he’s sure nervousness has to be a part of it. He waits Rocket out; any sudden move might scare him away from asking again, or even believing he could ask for Peter’s full attention.

Rocket takes a step forward, then another. At Peter’s soft smile, he moves a little faster, ducking his head down, eyes lowered, and shuffles up next to Peter’s seat on the bed. He won’t meet Peter’s eyes when Peter curls the still-outstretched arm around him and crooks a knuckle under his chin.

Peter leans down, presses a kiss to the tip of his partner’s nose, and wills him to meet his eyes. He ducks his head sideways a little and, with a huff of relief, finally catches Rocket’s gaze.

“Roooockeet,” he teases, letting it go a little sing-song around the edges. (Rocket claims he hates that, but Peter’s seen that little smirk he tries so hard to hide.)

“Hi there!” he says to the warm-brown eyes. “What do you need, baby? I know the last few weeks have been crazy, and I didn’t make time for us when I should have. I’m very sorry about that. Let me make it up to you?” Rocket gives up fighting it, then, grins a little and rolls his eyes a little more at Peter’s apologetic-but-hopeful face. He tucks his little body between Peter’s thighs until he can bump his nose against Peter’s stomach through his t-shirt.

”Just... Could you hold me? I don’t care, sex or not, but... Okay, jeez. I missed you, and this, and... did I do okay? With the whole evasive maneuvering thing yesterday? Sorry, that sounds like I’m looking for compliments, and I guess I sorta am, but...”

“Shh, stop that, I like that you’re asking, and this is different from that anyway. Hush those apologies.” Gods of the cosmos save him, but Peter’s _melting_. Rocket’s so fuckin’ adorable with the asking and the hopeful note in his voice that Peter thinks he might just die of the cute. His cute-death definitely won’t make Rocket feel better, though, so he files away Rocket’s bashful face for later appreciation an d kisses that nose again.

“Yes, Rocket, you were fuckin’ amazing, darlin’, so good. I was -- _am_ \-- so proud of you. I can’t believe you even pulled that off, with the backspin thing! Sorry I didn’t make that clearer before -- I thought it was obvious that you’re the best. Get up here, fluffy.” He holds both hands out, waiting for a second for Rocket to step into them, but Rocket is pointedly not getting the silent request for permission. Peter tucks his hands under Rocket’s arms and swoops Rocket up into his lap for another kiss, this time along the sharp edge of an incisor.

“Mm, yeah, thank you,” Rocket says, shivering under his partner’s hands. “Like it when you drag me around some. I was just checking, you know. I know it worked, but still,” he says, gruff as hell now that Peter has confirmed that he’s proud of him.

“Yeah, I know. You were great, though, just like always. Hey, Rocket? Did you mean you actually _want_ sexy things now, or do you want to maybe lay down and snuggle? A nap, perhaps?” From the way Rocket’s been glooping into a boneless puddle against his shoulder, Peter’s willing to guess cuddles are on the table, but Rocket’s surprised him with his insatiable appetite before.

“I mean... Snuggling would be nice, but if you want...”

“Cuddles it is! C’mon, flowerpetal, flop down here and -- hey, naked cuddles? No sex, I promise, but I’d like to feel you. I missed you too, you know.”

Rocket nods with a reassuring lack of hesitation and starts shrugging out of his Rocket-sized t-shirt and pajama-ish pants. Peter helps him out when the shirt gets stuck around his ruff and then flings his own clothes away and then they’re both gloriously nude.

Well, gloriously mostly-nude, because Peter’s left his underwear in place as a nod to Rocket’s nervousness and a reminder to leave his dick out of the proceedings. Peter hitches a knee up on the bed by Rocket and forces himself to focus before they get down to the cuddling, because he knows he won’t do it later.

“Rocket I know I’ve told you before, and I know knowing and believing are different, but you _can_ ask for this, for anything. I’m in it for way more than the sex, y’know? Just... remember that I’m kinda ridiculously in love with you and you needing this, needing me, is never going to change that. Except maybe by making me love you more, actually.” He holds his breath for a second, hoping he hasn’t pushed to far, said too much about need and made Rocket feel weak. Rocket looks up at him, though, from his seat on the bed and reaches for him.

Peter grabs his partner/lover/Rocket-y dude in one arm and drags the covers back from the bed with the opposite hand so they can slide under and hide from the world for a while. He tucks the blankets up around them and squashes the pillow around a little and Rocket grumbles and grins at him the whole time. It’s nice in their bed, always warm with enough pillows that they could (and sometimes do) build a little fort in there, but it gets a thousand times nicer when he gets Rocket arranged against his chest, noses mushed together, with small, sensitive hands cupping his face as they both doze off.


End file.
